Chapter 4 #2
She pushed the doorbell for the apartment. If she was wrong, at least she'd know. There was no answer. Pulling out her phone, she called him again. She was ready to leave a more urgent message when his deep voice came across the line.
"Max Malone?"
"Who's asking?"
"Agent Kara Reid. I've called you several times today. I need to speak to you."
"About?"
"Dominic Ashford and Samantha Barkley. I have questions."
"Dominic told me he already spoke to you. I doubt I can provide any new information."
"Oh, I think you can. Where are you? Can we meet?"
"I guess I could meet with you. On one condition. You pay for dinner."
"I'm not having dinner with you," she protested.
"Too bad. Because I'm hungry and I like to talk over a meal."
She drew an irritated breath. "Fine, I'll buy you dinner. Where?"
"How about here?"
His voice was no longer on the line; it was coming from behind her. She whirled around in surprise, her heart beating a little too fast when she saw him standing on the sidewalk with a smirk on his too-handsome face.
She put her phone into the pocket of her jacket. "Funny," she said.
His grin broadened. "I hope you like Chinese food."
"I do. And I will buy you dinner, but you have to promise to actually speak."
"No promises. We'll see how things go."
She didn't like his response, but at the moment, he had the upper hand. She had no grounds to bring him in for an official interview yet, so she had to take what she could get. Waving her hand toward the restaurant, she said, "After you."
He led the way into the Golden Dragon, opening the door for her and motioning her inside. The space was small and unpretentious, with a dozen tables covered with bright red tablecloths. Paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, and the air was thick with the smell of garlic, ginger, and other spices.
A woman who had to be in her sixties came out of the kitchen, her face breaking into a wide smile when she saw Max.
"Max! Finally, you come to eat!" She came around the counter, already talking rapidly in a mix of English and, what Kara assumed, was Cantonese.
"And you bring someone!" Her sharp eyes turned to Kara, assessing her with the kind of directness that would have been rude anywhere but in a Chinese family restaurant. "Girlfriend?"
"No, Mrs. Kim, this is—"
"A colleague," Kara said quickly.
Mrs. Kim waved her hand dismissively. "Colleague, girlfriend, it doesn't matter. You both need to eat. Sit, sit." She gestured emphatically toward a table in the corner. "I make you something good. Best dumplings in New York."
"Mrs. Kim, we can order—" Max said, once more interrupted.
"No, no. You sit. I cook." She was already heading toward the kitchen, calling out something in Cantonese that made an older man appear in the kitchen doorway. He looked at Max, then at Kara, and said something that made Mrs. Kim laugh and swat at him with a dish towel.
Kara raised an eyebrow at Max as they headed to the corner table. "Sounds like you're well-known around here."
"I live upstairs. But you knew that, right?"
"I knew your phone had been in this location quite a bit."
He smiled and tipped his head. "Very good. But I wasn't trying to hide."
"Could have fooled me. You have no business address outside of a post-office box, no website, no client testimonials anywhere. How do you sell your services?"
"Personal referrals. You're going to love the food here; it's great. I have to warn you, though, Mrs. Kim will bring enough food for four people."
As she sat down, she took in the restaurant from a new vantage point.
It felt warm and comfortable, not trendy, not trying to be anything other than what it was, and she felt instantly at home.
She was, however, a little surprised by how much the family seemed to like Max.
The more she learned about him, the more intrigued she became.
"So," she began. "Dominic Ashford mentioned you went to Harrow together. I didn't take you for a UK boarding school kid."
A flicker of surprise ran through his eyes. "I'm surprised he shared that with you."
"Is it a secret?"
"No. But I don't understand why you'd be talking about that."
"He said he'd known you a long time."
"Well, we certainly met a long time ago."
She wondered about the distinction he seemed to be making. "Does that mean you don't know each other well?"
Ignoring her question, he said, "What else did Dominic tell you?"
"That you used to work for the CIA."
He sat back in his chair, giving her a speculative look. "I don't think Dominic told you that; I think Special Agent Brennan did."
"Tyler mentioned he remembered meeting you somewhere overseas when he was in Delta Force," she admitted. "Why did you leave the CIA?"
He shrugged. "Why does anyone leave a job? I felt like making a change."
"And now you run security for Dominic Ashford?"
"I'm handling international security for him. He already has a team in the US."
Mrs. Kim appeared with a pot of tea and two cups, setting them down with a flourish. "Green tea. Very good for you. Make you strong, healthy." She poured for both of them, then disappeared again.
Kara wrapped her hands around the cup, grateful for the warmth. "How did you end up living in this neighborhood?"
"Does it matter?"
"Just curious. It would be an excellent cover for a CIA agent masquerading as a private security consultant."
"Are you writing yourself a story here, Agent Reid?"
"Am I wrong?" she challenged.
"The rent was cheap, and I like the neighborhood."
Everything about him was frustrating—the way he deflected questions, the way he kept showing up in her investigation, the way her heart jumped every time she saw him. "Why all the secrecy, Mr. Malone?"
"There's no secrecy. You're trying to make me part of your case, but I'm not."
"You work for Dominic Ashford, who dates Samantha Barkley. You were in the café. You're in this whether or not you want to be. Did you see anyone in the café when you came inside, anyone you recognized, anyone that seemed out of place, who caught your eye?"
He stared back at her. "I saw you."
Goose bumps ran down her arms at his very direct reply. "You didn't even look at me," she countered.
"I did. And you were staring right back at me. I thought we had a moment."
"We did not have a moment," she said, even though she was staring at him now and couldn't seem to break his gaze. "Are you trying to be charming?"
His smile broadened. "Is it working?"
"No."
"Too bad. I did see you, Special Agent Kara Reid," he drawled, using her full name and title. "Although I had no idea you were FBI."
"And I had no idea you were CIA. Odd that we should both be there at that moment."
"You seemed determined to make it odd. As for the rest of your question, I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
I've actually been replaying the scene in my mind to make sure I wasn't forgetting something.
Contrary to what you might think, I'm angry about what happened, not only to Samantha but to everyone else who was injured, both physically and emotionally. "
"Then help me."
"How? You know more than I do. I have no idea what you want from me."
"I don't think you're telling me everything."
Before he could reply, Mrs. Kim returned with plates of dumplings, scallion pancakes, kung pao chicken, and fried rice. Far too much food for two people, just as Max had predicted. She set everything down, nodded with satisfaction, and left again.
The smell was incredible. Kara picked up her chopsticks, suddenly starving.
For several minutes, they just ate, and then Max said, "What's your story, Agent Reid? You seem to know more about me than I know about you."
"Barely," she retorted. "All I know is that you went to boarding school with Dominic Ashford, and you were or are a CIA agent."
"When did you join the FBI?"
"A year ago."
He raised an eyebrow. "You're a newbie then. And yet you seem in charge. That's impressive."
"I might have a short tenure with the FBI, but I was a police officer for eight years before changing careers."
"Here in New York?" he asked as he put another dumpling on his plate.
"Yes. I'm a native New Yorker, born in Queens."
"And do you come from a family of cops?"
"No. Firefighters. My dad, my uncle, and a couple of cousins."
"But you didn't want to follow in their footsteps?"
"I believe in service and helping people, but I do not like fire. That blast yesterday…it shook me."
He gave her a thoughtful look. "Yet, you ran back into a burning building. Sounds like you're as brave as the rest of your family."
"No, I'm not, but the firefighters weren't there yet, and I had to do something. I also didn't have time to think about it, which was a good thing."
"If you'd thought about it, you would have made the same decision."
"Maybe…maybe not." She saw the questioning gleam in his eyes and had a feeling she'd revealed too much to backtrack now, so she finished the story. "My father died on 9/11."
"Oh. I'm sorry," he said, his tone sounding genuine for the first time. "That's terrible."
"I was only six, but I can still remember that day.
It started out normally, and then the world fell apart.
My mom picked my little brother and I up from school and daycare.
We spent all day watching the news, and family kept showing up at the house, crying, scared, hopeful.
We didn't know about my father for a long time.
He was in one of the towers. He rescued a lot of people before…
" She cleared her throat, not sure why she'd told him such a personal thing.
"Anyway, I couldn't become a firefighter after that.
Not that it stopped others in the family.
My uncle is a battalion chief, and his kids followed in his footsteps. I took a different path."
"That's understandable. Your father sounds like a hero."
"He really was. Not just that day, either. It was the way he lived his life." She took a sip of her tea. "We have gotten way off topic."
"Do you want more rice?" he asked as he picked up the bowl.
"No, you go ahead," she said, relieved with the change in subject. "I have to say, it was delicious. Do you eat here all the time?"
"Once or twice a week, but Mrs. Kim is often sending food upstairs. I've had just about everything on the menu. So, have you learned anything about the bombing, about the man who bumped into Samantha?"
"Actually, I spoke to a barista this afternoon.
She told me she remembered the guy with the coffee topped with whipped cream because he asked for extra whip.
She thought his name was Jonas. She said he'd been there a couple of times that week, but he'd never ordered coffee with so much whipped cream before. "
"Maybe he was checking the place out," he murmured.
"That's my thought. We're going back in time to see if we can catch him on a camera and try to get a last name and an address. Unfortunately, the camera on the front of the building has been out for the past week. Someone smashed it, and they hadn't gotten it fixed yet."
"Well, that sounds like too big of a coincidence."
"It does." She wiped her mouth as she finished eating and took her phone out of her pocket. "In lieu of a photo, I worked with a sketch artist, and this is what he came up with." She pulled up the image and handed him the phone. "Do you recognize him?"
His lips tightened. "Yes. He was leaving the cafe when I arrived."
"Do you know who he is?"
Max looked at the sketch once more, his jaw tightening. "No, but I think I saw him outside Forge Fitness last week."
She sat up straighter. "Where's that?"
"Soho. I was leaving Dominic's apartment building, and I saw Samantha on the street. She was waiting for a cab to take her to the gym, and I offered her a ride. I'm fairly sure this guy was standing in front of the fitness center when I dropped her off."
"Did Samantha talk to him?"
"No. I only noticed him because while she was in my car, she'd gotten a phone call, and she was finishing up. I double-parked until she was ready to go, and I was just looking around."
"When she got out of your vehicle, did they interact?"
Max shook his head. "I don't believe so, but I'm not sure I watched her go all the way into the gym."
"I need to go to that gym and show the sketch around, see if anyone can identify him. If I can get a name, that could be a huge break," she said with excitement.
"I'll go with you. Let me get the check."
"It's my treat," she said, more than happy to pay for dinner, because she might finally have a significant lead. "But I have to say that if you're sending me on a wild goose chase, you will regret it."
"Do you think I'd misdirect a federal agent?"
"I don't think I have any idea what you'd do, Max Malone, if that's even your real name."
He simply smiled and waved to Mrs. Kim to bring the check.